


Fur & Wings

by Blue_My_Mind



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Crack-ish, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Phobias, furry creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_My_Mind/pseuds/Blue_My_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a nice, quiet evening. No suprises, no hectic, no worries.<br/>To Zane's dismay, several furry creatures and one overreacting Marine didn't get that memo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fur & Wings

The blade cut through meat as if it was soft butter, sliding with no resistance at all, meeting the wood underneath and scraping over it with a soft sound when Zane pulled it back. The knife was the pride of the collection he’d gathered, with a shiny blade a good 8 inches long and sharpened to a near ridiculous extent. Certainly sharp enough to cut off fingers in a single sweep when you got them underneath the blade, but Zane trusted himself with it. Usually.

Right now, he wasn’t so sure. He wouldn’t cut off parts off himself, but the tiny grey paws striking out in unpredictable patterns were a different thing altogether.

Finally, Zane let go of the knife in exasperation, leaving the blade stuck in the chicken breast he’d been cutting to point a threatening finger at the small gray cat that had settled on the counter, pawing at this fingers and, occasionally, even at the knife, maybe thinking it was a great game, maybe hoping for some food. Or, maybe, just being as crazy as her owner.

“Stop that, furball, or you’ll lose a leg!” he warned. Said furball reacted with a stare, then she stretched her neck and licked at his fingertip with a tiny, rough tongue, making a small, delighted noise when she found his finger tasting like raw chicken.

Zane sighed, torn between feeling annoyed and the urge to grin giddily. He’d never been a cat person, but those little fluff balls were starting to grow on him. Maybe it was just how Ty looked at them, and how they always managed to bring a smile to his face. Damn him.

Finally, Cricket pulled her head away, contently licking her muzzle and staring at Zane with big, unblinking eyes. She had grown a little, funny how fast that happened. Now, her legs looked a little too long for her body, and her eyes were losing that blue sheen they’d had when she was a baby, starting to take on a sea-green color. Even Zane had to admit it looked beautiful amid the cat’s soft gray fur.

“You won’t stop, huh?” Zane asked the cat, receiving no reaction in return. Sighing again, he patted his shoulder, like he’d seen Ty do many times. “Come on, then.” Up there, at least she wouldn’t get her paws anywhere near the knife.

Cricket hesitated, not used to that behavior form Zane, but she jumped, easily landing on Zane’s broad shoulder. Zane grimaced when her tiny sharp claws dug through his shirt into his skin. How Ty didn’t have enough of this after the cougar escaped him.

He went back to cutting the chicken, careful not to move his shoulders so the cat wouldn’t feel the need to hold on tighter.

Unfortunately, the cat held on tighter anyway, seeking balance as she bumped her head against Zane’s face, purring hopefully. Rolling his eyes, Zane cut off a small piece of the chicken-he was starting to be as whipped as Ty was, _damn him_ -but hesitated.

He thought to remember Ty telling him that you shouldn’t feed raw chicken to your pets, because they could get some kind of bacteria from it and get sick. Was that right? Cats ate raw bird all the time, didn’t they? Maybe bred chicken were different somehow.

Before he could decide on the matter, there suddenly was a decidedly unmanly shriek from upstairs, followed by several loud crashes and equally loud cursing.

Zane flinched, and then he cursed himself when a row of hellishly pointed claws perforated his shoulder as Cricked jumped down again to stand frozen on the counter, wildly staring at the stairs. Jiminy came rushing from where he’d been napping on the couch, standing in the middle of the room, blue eyes widened and tail swishing.

Muttering angrily, Zane rubbed his shoulder and looked at the ceiling. Judging by the shrillness of Ty’s voice, it had to be a big bug he’d seen.

There was the sound of a door being smashed shut, then he heard Ty’s unusually heavy footfalls as he fled whatever monstrosity he’d seen. It was almost funny. A man who’d stare down the barrel of a gun coldly, yet ran screaming at the sight of a grasshopper.

Ty came rushing down the stairs with such haste Zane was surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. He didn’t even look at Zane, running past him and tearing open the cabinet under the sink, somehow managing to get his broad shoulders all the way into it, as if trying to crawl into it and hide there.

He didn’t, though, coming back out with the grim determination of a man in the battlefield on his face and a bottle of Raid in his hand. He stood up again and marched back towards the stairs, not running but still moving quickly, obviously determined to get the foe before he could hide or escape.

Zane watched him moving up the stairs, then he shook his head and followed.

After a moment, he turned back and took the knife, placing it in the dishwasher to make sure none of the cats would hurt themselves on it. Ty went crazy if they slipped when rounding corners too quickly, Zane didn’t want to know what he’d do if one of them got a cut trying to lick chicken taste off a kitchen knife.

Not that one of them still showed any interest in the meat. Both cats now stood tensely at the foot of the stairs, looking after Ty with wide eyes, twitching when Zane walked past them, grumbling to himself and rubbing his shoulder. He just hoped Ty hadn’t freaked out over nothing this time.

Hell, considering what his skin had just gone though, it better be a damn tarantula.

The door to their bedroom was closed, but Zane could hear Ty’s voice behind it, talking irascibly to whatever he was hunting down in there. His voice still was shrill, but also angry, yelling threats and promises to kill it.

Zane was almost afraid to open the door, but after the next crash, he decided he had to, even if it just was to save their furniture from obliteration.

He carefully nudged the door open to stick his head in; but before he could, a cloud of Raid rushed up right in his face. He turned his face away, coughing, and actually considered to fuck this and go back to the chicken. It probably was a proof of what he was willing to go through for Ty when he finally sighed, pulling his shirt’s collar over his face and walked into their bedroom.

Even through the fabric, the stink of the bug spray almost took his breath, scratching his throat and burning in his eyes. Ty had sprayed so much of the stuff it hung in the air like very thin fog even though the window was open wide. He had also managed to push over both nightstands and a chair, unhinge one of the cabinet’s doors and pull all the bedding to the floor, standing amidst the destruction with wide, wild eyes, searching the room.

Zane was about to tell him standing in here probably wasn’t too good for his health when Ty let out a triumphing cry, wheeled around and pointed the bottle at the ceiling, pressing the button. Zane followed his eyes and finally saw the bug.

And immediately felt the urge to put his hands over his face and groan.

In the ridge where ceiling and wall met, clearly too far away for Ty to actually hit it, fluttering desperately back and forth, was a dark-gray hawk moth. A fucking _moth_. He should have known it.

Heroically managing to neither groan or laugh at him, Zane turned on Ty and took the bug spray from him, getting a good portion of it all over himself in the process. “Stop that. You’ll kill yourself before you get it.”

Ty stared at him wide-eyed, then he pointed at the moth accusingly. “But it’s still there!”

“Well, it’s not going to go away if you don’t hit it,” Zane answered. It wasn’t even actually going to go away if he _did_ hit it, but that would be taking things too far. He looked around for the lid, and when he didn’t find it, shoved the bottle back into Ty’s hands.

“Here, hold that. And _don’t_ spray again.”

Ty clutched the bug spray with both hands, holding it in front of his chest like a shield. His eyes shifted back and forth between Zane and the hawk moth warily, but at least, he didn’t spray again.

“It flew right into my face,” Ty muttered. “I just wanted to open the closet, but it was sitting on the door. It flew right into my face,” he repeated, as if that was especially offending.

Zane looked at him, trying to keep his poker face even though all he wanted was to start laughing. This whole situation was just too ridiculous. Feeling a smile threatening, he let go of his shirt and grabbed for the toppled chair instead, putting it up right at the wall. He could feel Ty’s eyes boring holes into his back when he stepped on it.

From up close, the moth was actually pretty big, about palm-sized. Not exactly his or Ty’s palm, but still. It also was ugly with all that weird fur everywhere. And the sound the wings made when they hit the wall were kind of off-putting.

And did that count as making up excuses for Ty’s attempt at killing every living being in this room, both of them included, with bug spray?

Grinning to himself, Zane reached out and caught the moth in both hands, carefully stepping of the chair. Ty hastily scooted out of his way when Zane walked past to throw the insect out of the window, turning back to Ty with the intention to get both of them out.

Ty shook his head and pointed behind Zane. “No, close the window before it comes back!”

“The way it smells in here now, nothing is going to come in here. And we need to get some air in here, or we’ll both suffocate trying to sleep here,” Zane reasoned, gabbing Ty and shoving him out of the door. “And now, out. You’re not actually supposed to breathe that stuff in. Or get it in your eyes.”

Ty didn’t look too happy about it, but the urge to get away from the small and any potentially returning moths, he allowed Zane to usher him out and shove the door shut behind them. Now that Zane had said it, he noticed that his throat was scratching a little.

Hearing Ty cough, Zane looked at his husband, concerned. Suddenly, that wasn’t really funny anymore. How much damage could you do to yourself by spraying Raid in a room with an open window? “You’re all right, doll? Not feeling dizzy?”

“No.” Ty blinked down at the bug spray, then at Zane. “My throat’s bit raw. Not hurting, just . . tickling-like. And my eyes sting a little.”

“We’ll wash the stuff out,” Zane said, gently leading Ty downstairs. The cats were both awaiting them, but when they came closer, both took a singly wary sniff and turned to run away immediately.

Zane laughed loudly, half at the cats, half at Ty’s face. “Looks like we need a shower too.”

Ty sniffed at his own arm. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Course not,” Zane muttered, giving Ty a gently push. How long had he been in that fog? Hopefully not long enough to actually do damage to his eyes. “Go on, I’ll store the chicken away, then I come, too. And if your eyes still sting in thirty minutes or so, we should probably go to a doctor,” he finished, more to himself.

Ty winced, looking at Zane sheepishly. “I overreacted a little, huh?”

“Well, it _did_ fly right into your face,” Zane teased, then he leaned forward to capture Ty’s mouth in a gently kiss. It tasted awfully like bug spray, but when he felt Ty smiling against his lips, he enjoyed it anyway.

 

Hours later, after a late dinner, they both were grumbling and shifting in the guest bed, trying to get comfortable. Memory foam had a way of spoiling you for any other form of mattress, apparently, but the room still smelled too much like Raid to sleep in there tonight.

They finally settled down with their legs tangled, Zane’s arm under Ty’s head and his nose buried in Ty’s freshly-washed hair, Jiminy and Cricket still cavorting around them, apparently excited by their new sleeping situation, making it impossible to sleep.

“You,” Zane finally said, “are never allowed near the Raid again.”

Ty winced guiltily and snuggled even closer. “Sorry.”

Zane smiled into Ty’s hair and tightened his arms, rubbing a circle into Ty’s skin with his thumb to assure Ty he wasn’t actually mad. “And I swear, this summer we’ll install fly screens. At every window. And at the doors.”

Ty started shaking in his arms, trying to suppress laughter, and Zane grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of Ty’s head. Never a boring day with his husband. But hell, he loved him for it.

Still, he’d definitely hide all the Raid first thing tomorrow. Safety first.

 

Inspired by [this](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/137490928682/imagine-person-a-and-person-b-living-together).

**Author's Note:**

> A little finger practice....I swear, I wanted to write a scene with Zane interacting with the cats for some time now, and when I read that prompt, I immediately saw Ty half-hysterically waving a bottle of Raid around, hunting some bug


End file.
